A Letter to Grandma and Grandpa Buza

Now that we have no-added-cost long distance, email, and social networks the hand written letter has become pretty rare. But when we were first married, we had NONE of those. But we had the advantage of holding a letter in our hands. This is a letter that Grandma Buza saved for many years and she passed it along to me when she was around 90. I thought you would like to read it:

                                                                                        28th February, 1965
Dear Mom, Dad, & Joel -

Well, it looks as if the baby won't be here in Feb!! I went to the doctor Friday and he says to come back Tuesday if the baby hasn't arrived by then! -- He thought I may have started labor, but I guess not!! Today I had a few regular pains 20 and 15 mins apart, but after 5 or 6 or so they quit. Wayne and I were hoping, but alas!! Yet they may start in again pretty soon .... who knows!?

We were happy tonight to have a 'phone call from Grammie  and Andrea. It was so nice to talk with them -- their voices were so clear... sounded as if we were talking with someone right in Towanda!   (Note: I was talking about Grammie Muriel and Andrea Kneeland Kervin. Towanda, Pennsylvania is where Grampie and I worked at Memorial Hospital.)

Wayne has had quite a cold and sore throat, but I think the worst of it is over. He still doesn't feel quite as well as he could, though. He's been taking bufferin, drinking lots of juice, and resting. I hope he's over it before the baby comes, and I hope I don't catch it from him. I've been fighting a cold for over a week now --- have had the sniffles, but I think it won't develop into anything more serious.

Grammie mentioned what a good time you all had at dinner together .... I wish we could have been there, too!! I can imagine the fun you had! -- Nothing is more fun than eating anyway, is it, Mom? -- Mom & I like to chew the bones !!!

I hope the baby comes before my poor Wayne goes crazy!! I think he can hardly bear the suspense .... of course, he's no more "up in the air" than I am!!!! He says today that he's the proudest father in the world already, and don't know how he'll feel when the baby comes ..... I told him he'd explode; he couldn't hold it al in!! He's precious! He certainly is good to me, and I'm sure he'll be as fine a father as he is a husband. -- He does such sweet little things that so many people wouldn't think of!! He has been so patient with me, especially since the baby's been on the way ..... and it could have been so easy for him to be impatient! You have so much to be proud of in him..... his little faults aren't many, but I complain about them until I think he has 10 times as many good points as he has faults! -- And then my short-comings must drive him crazy!! (I've been twice as bad these past months!!)

It is nearly bedtime now, but I did want to get letters written tonight for tomorrow's mail. Wayne wrote to my family for me. -- It's been ages since he had written, so he decided it was his turn!

We love all 3 of you very much -- Write to us when you can, because we enjoy hearing from you so much!!! -- There isn't much news, but we'll let you know when the "big news" happens!

Love,
Wayne and Brenda

It's fun to go back and look at some of those old letters and see our attitudes and relive some of the memories. As many of you know, Valerie came into our home on March 11.  What a blessing she and our other children are and have always been. God is so GOOD to us.

Of note: Joshua told me recently that I use too many exclamation marks. I know that is true and for quite a few years it has been my habit to go back and edit most of them out. I see this letter. The exclamation points, the ellipses, and the dashes ---  are BAD!!!!

More Memories From Our Mad House!

Top: Valerie, Marcia; Bottom: Kevin, Jonathan; Middle: Stephen, Bethany

This blog is taken from a Facebook discussion among siblings -- our "kids", who had a marvelous time sharing random memories of their growing up years!

You may wish to read the previous blog about the things our children remember after 40 years or so, also. All I can say is that we have some delightful people in our family. I've loved reading of their memories and that has sparked some of my own. Grandchildren, maybe some of you are keeping journals. What a great idea to do that and be able to pass along the highlights of YOUR life to the next generation.

TIME WITH DAD:

Jeannie and Stephen Buza

Stephen:  I remember being ten and going hunting with Dad, walking through the snow, carrying my own firearm. Very early on it was an ancient .22 single shot, while my Dad carried his .32 Special lever action, which I think he's still sad to have go...tten rid of. Later, my dad had his Remington .30-06 and I carried a Savage over-under with .22 magnum on top and .410 on bottom. I'd have the .410 with birdshot in the chamber, but a couple of slugs in my pocket, just in case. We'd walk along the Pumpkin Ridge Road, check the fields. I nearly always walked behind him and if there was snow on the ground, I'd do my best to step in his footprints, but boy did he have a long stride! I'd practically have to jump to get to the next footprint, and so I'm sure I wasn't being particularly quiet. I remember the first time I saw my dad shoot a bird near the old collapsing house that we weren't allowed to go in (there's NOTHING left there at all now -- even the stone cellar has collapsed). I remember walking behind my Dad toward the upper field when a partridge flew out from an apple tree and my dad hit it while it was flying. I remember shooting a number of birds through the woods back there with my Dad. But what I remember most about it was just being with my Dad. He worked a lot, was on call a lot, when I was young, so to get two or three hours just the two of us being manly men was pretty important when I was ten. At some later time, my younger brother built a path through the woods that met up with an old skidder trail and, eventually, Pumpkin Ridge Road. It was a lot easier to get through the path than wend your way through the woods and not be sure exactly where you'd wind up. When I could hunt on my own, I used to go out along that trail with a rake in October and rake up all the leaves and dead branches so that it would be a very quiet walk through the cedar swamp that you passed through. I snuck up on a few deer and many birds and showshoe hare while on that path. Or course, to get there, you had to cross the footbridge, and that was only there because my brother (aka "He-Man") put the granite foundation in place by himself.

Stephen Buza http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-4NS7gChzvk

Find Your Wings - Mark Harris

http://www.youtube.com/

Stephen: How time flys raising children

Valerie: I love both those songs. What a blessing. And all the stories. What a blessing. I am sitting here with two boys playing chess, one little girl doing a math activity, and a very little boy drawing a creepy ogre that looks like it came from ..._Where the Wild Things Are_, and I'm getting ready to read a story about beaver. (_Flat Tail_ by Alice Gall Crew and Fleming H. Crew, a brother-and-sister team who had a childhood a lot like ours and grew up to write nature books together.) It's in the simple things of ordinary that life is good.

Bethany Buza Sykes   ‎I know this story is from my teenage/ early twenties years. I remember Dad and I going to Bangor to buy a new tractor. You and Mom had always agreed on amounts to spend on things....You went a little overboard, because this "on...e" was so much better. Now I must go back to the night before. Mom and Dad had gone to the grocery store and Mom wanted some grey pupon mustard instead of the boring old frenchies mustard. Dad told her it was silly to spend that much more on mustard. So as I was standing by my father and he made the decision to spend more then $1.50 on the agreed amount for the tractor purchase...I simply looked at Dad and said maybe next time you might want to let her have that Grey pupon...we had a great laugh over it, and of course had to tell mom who whole heartily agreed that she should have it next time.

Kevin: I built my deck ... 10' by 42' across the front and 6' by 28' along the side. Loved doing it too. When I do projects like that people have asked where I learned how to do that stuff. I always tell them I learned by watching and helping my Dad with his projects. I loved holding the boards while he cut them, etc. Those are precious memories for me: helping Dad with some project. I remember times watching Dad working outside and taking some cold water or iced tea out to him so he could cool down.

Bethany Buza Sykes Kevin people always ask me how I know how to do these "manly" jobs. My answer watching my dad and brothers...Helping my dad and brothers (probably more like getting in the way)
Kevin Buza When Ashley got her first vehicle, the first thing I did was introduce her to the concept of internal combustion engines, where the power comes from, how it gets translated from battery to spark combined with gas to create an explosion to p...ush a piston down from the force of that explosion and how that gets translated into rotational energy that propels a car. What fun it was for me... so much so that I've already started teaching the other two those same things, a little at a time.

IT DOESN'T COST MUCH TO HAVE FUN AT HOME:

Jonathan Buza We went out along side that trail and chopped a cedar tree down for the beams for that little foot bridge. The back is fine, considering all the stupid things I did with it I am certinaly blessed to not wake up to a sore back every day. God is good. I was quite fit when I was a landscaper. I wish I were that fit now. Everything is heading sort of like that old house. haha

Kevin Buza Oh, the sand pile by the old boat.... I loved playing in it until the red ants moved in!

Valerie Jacobsen I remember Mom cleaning up the yard, some old boards from a building project. She found a nest of baby pinky mice, and she put them in a jar and called us to come look. I remember kneeling by a rotting log with her and watching all the ants scurry to save their babies after we broke it open. Both of our parents were always aware of the kind of experiences that would enthrall a small child.

Bethany:  I remember when it came time for me to get my license Dad took me to the gas station and taught me to pump gas, and he taught me how to change my tires, check my oil and other fluids...because he was tired of having to do it for all the girls. As a matter a fact I changed a tire for my older sister about 6 years ago because I love her, and because my wonderful father taught me to do it (because he was sick of it....lol)

THE STORIES OF BATS (AND OTHER CRITTERS) ARE CLASSIC MEMORIES

Valerie Jacobsen

I remember one of the times a bat got into the house--and I remember that bats are among Dad's least favorite creatures. We were all in bed for the night, when I saw it swoop through the air over my bed. I screamed for Dad, and he came runn...ing. In the process of investigation, my brothers claimed to have seen it too, and described it as white and about a foot long. With that, Dad doubted our tales and told us to be quiet and go to sleep. I felt very well vindicated the next morning when I learned that after they went to bed, Mom and Dad heard the bat scratching and were awake long into the night looking for its hiding place before they finally found it, clinging to the back of a dresser drawer in their bedroom.
I also remember Dad shooting another bat in the bathroom. And I remember Mom unpacking from a camping trip when a larger garter snake crawled out from our things, and she had to call Dad home from work to capture it for her.

I remember Dad trapping a possibly rabid skunk in the cellar and removing it, trap and all, to take it into the woods and shoot it. (This is a little bit fuzzy. Is that how it happened?)

[My Note: The skunk was already dead when Dad removed it from the basement.]

Brenda Buza Dad or Jon will have to tell you about the bat experience when they were working on our Marshfield house. Dad was trapped in a lift and Jonathan 'playfully' told him there was a bat down his shirt... ugh!! We still laugh about it.

Valerie Jacobsen Dad can substitute the truth for my euphemism "least favorite creatures" if he so desires.

Michele and Jonathan Buza

Jonathan Buza  I might of missed liking a comment. I LIKE IT ALL!!! This is fun. It doesn't sound anything like me that I would tell dad there was a bat crawling on him. We were working on the shingles on the back side of the house. As I recall there... was an area that had been patched where an old door or window had been, and we were pulling some shingles to work the pattern of shingles together. Well upon pulling a few shingles five or six bats came out. Dad really doesn't like bats and he let out a scream. What a brat I said "there is one on you". But when I told him I was kidding he felt all better and we went back to work. I don't like bats either!

Wayne Buza Val mentioned the skunk in the basement up earlier in this biographical novel. The skunk had crawled in the basement and I think it had died there. But to be sure it was dead I used the hole and shot it. Then carried it out into the woods without touching it at all. DO you all remember the other skunk?

Brenda Buza The "other skunk". We had gone to Grammie Ruth's and Grampie Jim's for the weekend. When we got home it was dark and more than one child was asleep. Dad and I went inside with some people and our "gear". And when we opened the door to the entry way it wasn't latched and a powerful odor struck us -- it was SO strong we didn't recognize what it was. I was inside the house and Dad went back out to get another child or children. In the meantime, I thought something moved under the chair in the entry way and I leaned down to come eye to eye with the skunk just as Dad was getting to the outside door. I remember yelling "SKUNK". Dad went outside and I went inside. To make a long story short, we fought that odor every time it rained for a long while afterward.
Dad: Mom was lucky. I came eye to - well the other end of the skunk. I think his "tank' was already empty by that time.

Jonathan Buza Dad, I don't think lucky has anything to do with looking at a skunk on your porch no matter which end your looking at. haha I remember when you were going on a fishing trip to the Allagash and you told me you would pay me to dig worms. I'm not sure how many hours I spent flipping over rocks and boards and digging holes. Seemed a little like robbery seeing as that was the sort of thing that little boy did anyway.
Dad: I cannot believe that your father would be numb enough to pay you to dig worms. Certainly you are making that up.
Jonathan Buza My prices were cheaper than buying bait and you were busy. haha

[My Comment: The point of paying a little boy to help out once in awhile is to help instill in him the value of working for what he has. Some duties were expected because you lived there. But having the opportunity to make a little money now and then is good -- on the other hand, I don't think "allowances" help develop character. I think when you compensate someone because they breathe helps breed and entitlement mentality. Of course when you want something done and don't have time to do it yourself is a perfect opportunity to develop some character in a child!]

TENTING AND ALL

Brenda Buza

I'm a little surprised that nobody has talked about the tenting and travel experiences we had as a family. I liked those times SO much because there was no 'phone to interrupt our fun. Do you remember the time that I went "on strike" at Perdido Key? I had this pity party because everybody was having fun going from beach to pool to hot tub, etc, while I was doing laundry, cleaning the condo, making meals etc. So I made a dish of pineapple and took it with a book out onto the deck. . . I think it was 7th floor. The Gulf was beautiful and I could see the dolphins doing their gymnastics. Time went by and some people came in for supper -- but there was nothing. Somebody came out onto the deck and asked what was for supper and I told them, "whatever you fix." The room went silent. But in a bit there was some movement. I think somebody made tacos the whole time I sat there and did not enjoy my book or the scenery because I felt so guilty.

Barbara and Kevin Buza

Kevin Buza Camping.... in one of our recent church small group meetings our "icebreaker question" was "Tell about a camping experience." So, I told about borrowing a van, packing a tent, and heading for Florida to camp on the beach, only to arrive an discover that the tent poles were sitting outside the barn way back in Maine. 

Brenda Buza So, Kevin, we bought another tent that went flat in a rainstorm and soaked all of our clothing and bedding ... did you tell that part? What a wild tenting experience THAT was.

Stephen Buza Haha... I don't remember that tenting issue. Is that because I was in Florida already?

Kevin Buza ‎... and then Hurriance Elaina came through as I recall.

Brenda Buza I think you weren't with us, Stephen. It was the night before Valerie's graduation. We had to go to a laundromat to dry everything and then on to a motel room. Weren't you at home working at that point?

Stephen Buza If it was the night before Valerie's graduation, then i was living on campus. 

Brenda Buza OK -- short memory fuse here.

Marcia R. Buza I remember the tenting experience and the rainy tent......Maybe Mom and Dad were discouraged about it....but, I remember that I didn't feel affected by it....I remember being scared about the hurricane, though.

OF CATS AND DOGS AND PERCEIVED "PUPPIES"

Stephen Buza I still think that dogs are boys and cats are girls.

Valerie and Paul Jacobsen

Valerie Jacobsen One of my very first memories after Stephen's birth--I'm pretty sure I was less than two--was coming downstairs to find that our dog had puppies in the night. I was delighted beyond description.

Mommy, on the other hand, was disgusted. Those weren't puppies and she was mad at the dog for what she'd left on the floor! [My note: Kiki was a pretty young puppy when Stephen was born and was not interested in being house-broken.]

 Does anyone else remember that dog? Mom told me recently that Dad had to shoot her because she had gotten in with a porcupine and was suffering so badly. :-(

I remember thinking that dogs were the boys and cats were the girls of the same species. A little inconsistent, I know, but there you have it.
I remember thinking that if you turned off the TV the little people inside would be frozen in place and would pick up where they left off when we turned it on again.

[My Note You called the dog Kiki. You must have thought she was a cat!]

Valerie Jacobsen Well, I knew she was a dog, but I thought a dog was a kind of cat. 

Brenda Buza One of the first words Valerie said was "down". She would roll up a newspaper, shake it at the dog and yell "down".  I worked for a few weeks before he was born and Ruth Sprague was the babysitter -- that is where Valerie learned to tell the dog to get down.

Kevin Buza LOL. I knew there was a dog prior to Honey, but could not remember it. [My note: Dr. Shaw gave us that dog. He raised labs and used them for duck hunting.]

Stephen Buza

Valerie Jacobsen So my first kitten was Nickel-huppy-kiki. Nickel was the name Mom suggested, for the gray spot on her head and puppy-kitty was her species. 

Stephen Buza Actually, I might have been trying to feed the dog instead, and the cat pounced.

Valerie Jacobsen I mean him. I thought the cat was a girl when I was little because, again, cats were girls.... Yeah. I woke up in the middle of the night, suffocating with him sleeping on my face. I pushed him away in such a panic that he hit the wall with a very loud thud. And I was about 13 then. This is after he came back from his long, mysterious adventure.

Stephen: My hatred of cats started there. I was young, maybe 5 or 6, and I had a piece of gristle that I was taking out to give to the cat, but it was dark out and I couldn't see her, so I was just holding it in my hand with my arm outstretched. So...mehow, she bounded up the steps, leapt in the air, and grabbed onto my hand with both paws, clawing me pretty badly. I still have the scar on my right ring finger. Never liked cats after that, and I can't think of any redeeming qualities they have that might have improved this over the years. 

Marcia R. Buza I don't remember the dog prior to Honey

Valerie Jacobsen I think that dog was gone before Kevin was born. Not 100% sure though.

Wayne Buza: IS this thread public or family? IT must be a public thread. I am not related to. ANYONE here and none of these things ever happened. Well I do remember a bat or two

Brenda Buza The only time I enjoyed cats was when they lived in the barn. They would keep the mouse population down and they had no tables or cupboards to climb on. They were contented climbing in the hay and coming into the stable when I was milking (by hand, of course). I liked squirting a little milk at them and they would lap it in mid air. That was fun -- my opinion? Cats do not belong inside houses, LOL.

Stephen Buza http://ablestmage.wordpress.com/2008/03/13/random-image-cow-milking-squirt-to-cats-mouth/

Random Image: Cow Milking Squirt To Cat’s Mouth

ablestmage.wordpress.com

Brenda Buza: EXACTLY, Stephen! And they sit there and WAIT with pleading eyes.

RANDOM FUN AND BIRTHDAYS

Brenda Buza I can remember all being in our living room and laughing until we ached. Stephen and Jonathan could have us ALL in stitches!! 

Brenda Buza We had birthday for Kevin in a motel with a pool a few times; I remember a birthday for Jonathan at a picnic table along the New York turnpike. I think Jon was 3. We were on our way to Illinois to see Gramma and Grampa.

Bethany: Okay, so I love to look at rocks, I love looking at all the different shapes, sizes, and colors. I wonder if it came from all that rock picking when the house was moved?

Christopher and Bethany Sykes

Stephen: Heh.. Maybe. I did my share or rock-picking in the gardens too.

Bethany:  Once upon a time there was this pretty little three year old girl with beautiful blonde curls! Her big brother asked if she wanted to play barber. She didn't really know what that was, but she said yes. When brother was all done the little... girl went proudly to show Mother how beautiful her hair was. The mother saw only one little ringlet hanging down by her ear...the rest were on the floor at her brothers feet. Mother cried and cried and then took the little girl into the barber shop and said to the barber can you fix her? Poor Mother, Poor Little girl, and Poor Brother. Although I would imagine if mother had not have cried the little girl would have thought nothing of having only one curl on her head.

WHAT REALLY HAPPENED WITH THE NEIGHBOR'S GARDEN?

Bethany:  Oh yes! Oh and your story about having lunch from the garden...I always loved to do that! Just have to remember to pick from your own family garden, right Jonathan? 

Jonathan Buza Why where did I steal vegetables from? 

Stephen Buza This sounds vaguely familiar.

Valerie Jacobsen I remember the Grays' cows getting in our corn.

Jonathan Buza Ohhhh That explains it. Must be that I figured if his cows could eat our corn I could snag a few peas and carrots from his. haha I don't remmeber making like a hobbit and stealing farmer maggots crops

Bethany Buza Sykes ‎Pearlie Gray we got caught of course, and got in big trouble.

[My Note: I don't remember if/what Jonathan did something with Everett Gray's garden. But I remember the gentleman, himself, carrying a huge bag of peas up to me and apologizing profusely for what his cows had done in our garden. They had devastated about 12 rows of gorgeous corn. That was kind of him to try and make some sort of restitution. And beyond that . . . did you, Jonathan?]

Kevin Buza ‎(cough) Halloween candy (cough), November 1st

Stephen Buza Jonathan was enterprising. He figured all of the households within a mile would be stuffed to the gills with leftover candy the day AFTER Halloween, so he went around with a pillowcase and collected. I'm quite sure he got ten times as much candy on November 1st as he got the day prior. 

Kevin Buza I always thought he was a genius for doing it and didn't understand why Mom & Dad were upset. Spirit of an entreprenure right there.

Jonathan Buza Just trying to do my civic duty. 

[My note: Jonathan, you have always had a rather well developed sense of logic -- and justice.] 

Marcia R. Buza I wanna go back!!! Back to then...please?......It would be really cool if in Heaven God would let us see back to times like these...

ECLIPSE OF THE MOON, COMETS, AND ADOPTED DAUGHTERS:

Bethany Buza Sykes I remember Mom and Dad allowing us to drag a mattress outside by the barn and lay on it to watch an eclipse late at night, and again when Haley's comment came around....It was so cool!  I remember thinking what a great party it was to be awakened in the middle of the night (probably 9-10pm...hehehe) to go see it and laying on the mattress looking up at the sky it was just awesome.

Valerie Jacobsen I think the star party was probably after I went to school.

Bethany: The comet was I think my early teens 

Kevin Buza . . . the comet came through to mark my graduation from high school (and Val's from college)... 1986.

Marcia R. Buza I remember that Mom made Beth go for a walk with me cause I was lonely and Beth was so mean she told took me down to the bridge and told me I was adopted and she said if I said anything to Mom about her not wanting to go for a walk with me that she would cut my dolls hair off....thats how it happened, right Beth?????

Marcia Buza

Bethany Buza Sykes  NO< I did cut your dolls hair off because you never would let me play with it, and you were mean to me on that walk....although as usual Bethany cried about nobody playing with her, and her big sister was told to play with her and then the walk where I found out that I was adopted and I was going to be beaten up if I told mom anything....of course you never would have, but I figured if Jon could cut my hair I could cut your dolls hair...:)

Marcia: lol.....I love you Beth......now, I would love to go for a walk and talk.

Bethany:  As would I...we loved each other then too, but i think I felt like everyone didn't need alone time of there own...I was such a brat sometimes, but aren't we all.

[My notes: did you tell each other you were adopted? Both of you look to much like family for that one to have any lasting impression, don't you?]

Marcia R. Buza Speaking of after you went to school, Val........You were so good about writing to your siblings while you were off to school....and I remember you sending a good book about dating that I wish I had taken more seriously.....

Bethany Buza Sykes I have never been very good at remembering birthday's or writing letters....wish I had been though. Of course I was really good at writing so so so so so so so so so so so, etc, much.

Marcia R. Buza yeah....I remember the so so so so so letters that you wrote Beth!

[My note: Oh, Bethany! Those little notes from you to Valerie with about 4 lines of I love you so, so, so, so..... were SO cute!]

GODLY COUNSEL AND WISDOM PASSED AROUND

Marcia: . . . and I remember you [Valerie] sending a good book about dating that I wish I had taken more seriously.....

Bethany Buza Sykes I never really listened to the council of those that loved me, and were looking out for our best interest. The council of those in our lives and the council of The Lord God himself should always be listened to. It took me two failed marriages to realize that what I wanted and what God wanted were not in line with each other.

Valerie Jacobsen Sorry for that experience, but so thankful that God is so good to us.

Bethany Buza Sykes I thought I didn't need to take the counsel of my parents, church family or God. I thought this is my life, and I know what is best for my life. NO God knows what is best for my life. Even through my disobedience, God had a plan, and sent Christopher to me, but the hurt and pain I dealt with could have been so avoided if I had adhered to those that loved me, and prayed to the Lord for his will in my life. Marcia R. Buza I didn't either Beth. It takes most people most of their lives to realize that Gods way is always best. Amber asked me tonight why everyone always says that growing up is hard? We got the chance to talk about how growing up is alot less difficult if you listen to the council of your parents and if you make a choice to go Gods way...

Marcia R. Buza God was gracious to send Chris to you Beth. And God was gracious to send you to Chris for that matter.

Valerie Jacobsen Marcia, it's the only way to have all the wisdom of a grownup when you're not quite one. But Christians really never outgrow the need for godly counsel. We are made into one BODY, not as isolated, individual units.

Kevin, Jonathan, Dad, Bethany, Marcia, Mom, Valerie, Stephen

[My note: This is one of the chief reasons that I am keeping up with this blog. I hope through the stories and specific warnings that God will use our experience and the lessons He has taught us in life to help this new generation. While I realize that many people learn from their own sin and error and not from ours, we do have a responsibility before God to encourage, admonish, and correct the children that He has entrusted to our care. We pray continually that they will listen to the voice of the Holy Spirit and that they do not resist or grieve Him.]

SECRET PASSAGE:  





Stephen: When I was about eight, we were locked out of the house one time. Dad took me down in the basement and there was a little hole in the living room closet floor. Couldn't have been more than sixteen by twelve inches. The closet was where a... bathroom used to be and there was still a hole there (I'm not sure why the hole was rectangular). Over the top of the hole was a piece of chipboard, and on top of that was what felt like fifty pounds of shoes and boots and whatever other paraphernalia normally collects in the bottom of closets. I lifted it up, pushing all the shoes out of my way, climbed up into the closet and unlocked the front door. After that, I kept the bottom of the closet clear of shoes, because it was my escape hatch. I got good at climbing up or down through that hole. There were probably quite a few times after bath and pajamas that I climbed down through the hole, up through the cellar bulkhead, and out into the night and nobody was the wiser. I also escaped from siblings during hide and seek and was never found. It was easy to stop in the closet and drop out of sight into the darkness below. It was a pretty sad day when I was twelve or so and I could no longer fit my shoulders through the hole.

Grampie and Me (MANY Years After These Stories)

Kevin Buza Yeah, when that closet got converted I tried to put my foot in that hole. It wasn't happening, never mind my shoulders. Don't know how anyone ever managed to fit through it.

Wayne Buza I think the hole in that closet was a LOT smaller than 12x16. It was cut in the floor for the drain to the bathtub. It was put there before we bought the house and then not covered until we moved the kitchen into the living room and the living room to the kitchen, and made the pantry there where the hole was. I remember Stephen going through it to open the front door.

Things Our Children Remember After 40 Years Or So

Grandchildren -- life was so different before there were so many television stations, video games, and DVDs. Your parents spent most of their time outside, always discovering something. We had a bell mounted on our front door frame and whenever there were no children in sight Gramp or I would ring the bell -- and that meant "come home". At the ringing of the bell, children came running home from all directions: from the woods, from the neighbor's yard, or the garden area. Well, here it is -- told much better than I could ever tell you:

The Dead Car Dump:

Valerie:  Pastor Wayne Rohde took this. He's missing a little creek, but other than that I'm pretty nearly certain that this is actually a photo of the woods behind the house I grew up in. We kids loved exploring in them when we were little. They were right by an old, abandoned dump that was used probably from the late 1800s until about 1930, and I spent many, many hours in that dump, playing archaeologist. I first read the news of a great stock market crash sitting in the dirt, in the midst of old whiskey bottles, reading a still-preserved scrap of newsprint from 1929.
[My note: I thought abandonment of old cars out in the woods or behind a house was a Maine phenomenon. But I presume Pastor Wayne took this picture in the midwest!]

 They were pretty well-filled with mud and silt, being so close to a creek that rose and fell with the seasons, but we got over the ickies often enough to pretend to drive those old cars.

There was also an old, old abandoned and collapsing house back in those woods. My parents went nuts when they found out that we kids had not only found the house but had gingerly climbed into an upstairs window to explore. (It was so far gone, that the upstairs window was just above ground level.)  ‎Stephen and Kevin, do you remember us trying to figure out a way to haul a canoe out of its old cellar?

THE OUTDOOR CULTURE OF THE 1960s and 1970s:

Valerie: There was no end to the fun and exploration on that property. A crane that comes and picks up your whole house from one place and sets it down in another. A dusty, dusty road that cars seldom found until neighbors came one-by-one, slowly. An abandoned house, a dump, old cars, wild blueberries in little fields, wild strawberries under the trees, ICE cold water in March, enormous anthills, a big eel to catch in a shallow pool, hundreds of tiny eels in deeper water, an absolutely glorious Frog Pond with no end of things to watch, or dissect. Middle River flowing by, where we could jump from rock to rock and explore miniature islands. A sawmill with a million miles of sawdust, all in sweet, soggy piles. Places to skate in the winter. Big snakes under the oil tank and little ones that would almost certainly come to find shelter under any board we'd lay on the grass on a warm day. Thick, pillowy moss that seemed like it would be lovely to walk on until <squelch, squelch>> it wasn't. Tiger salamanders under rocks by trickling springs, a sure thing any day from March onward. And whip-whip-whip-poor-wills. And chick-a-dee-dee-dees.

Tall bamboo. Piles and piles of sweet wild roses, and then rose hips to collect, and taste, and play like marbles. I never knew wildflowers were scarce, protected species until I was an adult.

And baby brothers and sisters! One and another and another and another, and still another. Always someone for one more adventure.

Valerie, Bethany, Jonathan, Kevin, Stephe, Marcia

ADVENTURE:

Valerie: OOOOH! And Daddy pointing out the window.
"Do you see the car?"
"I can't see it."
"Look hard, Valerie."
"I don't see it."
"Look at the snow. There. Do you see something small sticking out of the snow?"
"A stick?"
"Yes, that's an antenna. The car is under there."

And so my Daddy took his snowshoes [My note: he actually waded out our road and borrowed snowshoes while he was gone], and my little sled [My note: he actually, used a long, toboggan that he borrowed while he was gone, Valerie], and set off for town, three miles away, to get us food.

There was an old glue stain on the wallpaper by my bed. In the evening it scared me, but in the morning, it was a funny old thing. So, I woke up in the morning and laughed at it, when <drip, drip> my nose was wet.

And my father came laughing, to carry me from my bed--it was raining IN the house--to the only dry place, my mother's bed. And, soon, didn't he have doughnuts with white powdered sugar, and weren't we eating them in Mommy's and Daddy's bed?

My father took the roof off our house to put on a second story, when the wind and rain interrupted him and soaked his house. And there is proof that my daddy was a good daddy. On that discouraging morning, he could make a happy memory for his children.

And just a few months later, I sat on the edge of that same bed, in that room, by myself, and rocked the baby in the cradle and watched her sleep, my first sister.

Stephen: We kids were very disappointed when the cars were hauled away, but there really wasn't much left to them, so I guess it was time. This photo sure does bring back memories, sis.

Marcia:  I remember the cars and the old house that we played in. I remember the window. I thought I remember the canoe....hmmm....and I remember a lot of other things.....I was crying when I read your story Val.....wow!

WHEN A NEW BABY ARRIVES

Valerie: My Grammie was a little bit mad. She said to me, "Valerie. I told you before. Stay away from that metal. You will cut your feet. Now, you come and sit here, on the steps. Daddy will be home soon, and he has a surprise for you."

I was wearing red overalls. The steps were bumpy. I sat and wondered what the surprise could be. I don't remember the car coming into the driveway, but I do remember my Daddy walking around the front of the car to open the door for my Mommy. She was carrying something in a blanket, and I did not have any idea what it might be. She came close, and she showed me a beautiful, tiny face. That was my first brother, and I was 18 months old, and this is the very first thing that I remember.          [My note: Valerie, you were 20 months old when Stephen was born. I remember pulling into the driveway and being totally shocked that my "baby girl" was so BIG. That was hard!]

THE ABUNDANCE OF CREATION:  I think my next memory is of Daddy lifting me so that I could look into a nest to see three blue eggs.

Valerie's Apple Tree

Stephen: Val, your memories of nature on that old dusty road bring tears to my eyes. Not tears of sorrow, but tears of sweetness as I remember my youth in our wonderful home. It was on the Marshfield Flats road, and I personally found the name ridiculous, since there was nothing flat at all about it. I grew strong legs pedaling my bike up those hills, being careful to not let the narrow tires slip in the cracks between planks on the old wooden bridge over Middle River. I remember sugar plums by the handfulls, blueberries and blackberries by the staining my hands, and a dozen green apples snagged from the three ancient gnarly trees along the border of the lower garden. I remember the strawberry mound mom and dad built back before the house was moved by crane. Before the landscaping, you had to make your way through the alder forest and down the steep embankment to the stream that held dozens of four-inch brook trout. A hope and a skip up the far side and you were in a little blueberry field that waws slowly being reclaimed by the forest and now is completely gone. Just beyond that was the remains of a stone property line, which abutted what Valerie called "the bottle dump." I'm not sure if you still have treasures from there, but we found intact hand-blown glass quite commonly there. There were two apple trees in the front yard, Valeries and Mine. Valeries was a red delicious that never got quite enough pruning, but I loved the apples from her tree, and it still stands there as far as I know. Mine was lost when the house was moved, but I don't ever remember apples growing on it. There was quite a steep little hill from the back of the house to the lower garden with a briar-like patch of raspberry and blacberry bushes that you needed to avoid when taking a taboggan down in the winter. I remember getting a fancy new green bicycle, bringing it home, getting on it the first time, and riding straight down that hill in the berry canes, crashing my bike, and getting quite scarred up, but pretending that it didn't hurt me at all.

I spent hours in that lower garden and I'm sometimes surprised there was ever anything left to harvest. Lunch? Who needs lunch when there is a smorgassboard of everything a boy could want within easy reach? I helped till, plant, and weed, so the food was mine; or at least that's how I thought of it. Later we had the upper garden around the time that Dad bought the Sears tractor. Do you remember the tractor Val? You were maybe eleven years old and Dad was going to let you drive it before he let me, and you drove it right straight into the brand new ash tree they had planted, nearly wiping it out. The tree withtstood it just fine though, and has grown into a massive sprawling tree. Some years later I narrowly avoided getting crushed by a tree limb coming down during the '98 ice storm. But it still stands there, and I think you'd be shocked to see it now.

Then there was the culvert at the end of the driveway that it seemed like they needed to replace every single year because it was never large enough, it would freeze up, and the ice would build up all around the end of our driveway. In March, when the snow and ice melted, there'd be a hole at the end of the driveway, which we'd navigate around best we could until about June when someone from the town would come dig up the old one and repeat the mistake yet again.

Fun And Tough Times For Valerie
Valerie:  I was just barely four. Daddy was cleaning out the cellar, and I was watching everything that came out from under the earth. Daddy had rented a U-Haul trailer with big fat fenders--it wasn't ours to keep--and I thought that one of those fenders would make a perfect seat for me. As I tried to climb up onto it, a hornet stung me on the leg. I remember screaming, but I mostly remember Daddy snatching me up and running into the house.

"Brenda, she's been stung."

I remember the baking soda paste, and watching it go onto the red spot on my leg, but I mostly remember that my mommy's and daddy's eyes were red.

I don't remember if this happened before or after that, but one thing Daddy found in the cellar was a tiny, blue plastic basket. It was muddy, but he told me that if I washed it, I could use it as a bed for a tiny doll. It was a wonderful gift.

For the longest time, there was a hole in our living room floor. I would guess it was at least 3'x3' and I think it was there because that was the only way to get the new furnace into the house. The hole had been filled with a piece of plywood, but it sat lower than the rest of the subfloor and I was always tripping on it. It seemed to me like we used the wood stove most of the time anyway. A found myself in the woods a lot of weekends harvesting logs with dad. We'd pile them on the old trailer and bring them home, and the next Saturday I would inevitably wake up to the sound of a chain saw as dad was cutting them up bright and early. The splitting, lugging, stacking. I think we all participated. I know Jonathan did because he got his finger caught in the woodsplitter. (They were able to sew it back together).

For a while we had an old swingset and next to that was an old wooden boat, which was a lot of fun to play in. Did we have a sandbox too? I can't remember. I do remember there being an old tree out front that Dad and Fred Thorne cut down one afternoon, and I remember Mom being worried it would fall on the house.

I remember Grampie Jim coming to visit. He'd go for walks because it was good for his heart, and he'd take me on a side trek into the woods to find Spruce Gum. I don't know why, but I've never been able to find it on my own. He was deathly afraid of snakes, as I recall, and Grammie would never let me bring a snake into the house whenever I'd catch one by the oil tank.

I have a very found memory of an old stump that sat in the back yard. I think we used it as home base for wiffle ball sometimes. But I remember being 8 or 9 years old, sitting on that stump, looking up at a clear blue sky on a very warm day, and thinking that I had the best life ever! I remember that moment just like it was yesterday.

I remember walking all the way to the end of the road with mommy, and it seems to me that we were checking the mail. I don't know if that's because we _were_ checking the mail or if it's just because we were singing this song together--
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XUYpUogn91U
Ella Fitzgerald - A-Tisket, A-Tasket

http://www.youtube.com/

Ella Fitzgerald - A-Tisket, A-Tasket http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0035252/
But didn't we sing "green and yellow?"

[My Note: Yes, Valerie. We sang "green and yellow basket" that is how I learned it when I was a child!]

A MONSTER STORM IN FEBRUARY OF 1968:

Stephen:  May our daughters marry (and may our boys be) the kind of men who will walk six miles in snowshoes, hauliing 75 pounds of food to make sure their little ones are fed. When Daddy went to town trudging on four or five feet of snow, pulling the toboggan, I wanted to go with him, but the snow was over my head for sure. Mom was worried when he didn't show up until dark. It had been hours. He'd snowshoed those three miles, pulling that toboggan loaded down with food. I don't remember this part, but Mom's told the story a few times. She's looking down the road, worried, and just as dusk is falling, she can see a shadow, trying to make his way up the hill. Two steps forward, he comes with weighted sled, and he slides one step back. But he keeps coming. He's been at this for hours and there are three kids to feed. So he keeps coming. And he collapses in a chair after unloading groceries. A fifty pound bag of potatoes is at the bottom of the taboggan, and Mom asks "Why didn't you just buy instant potatoes?" Sometimes Dad's don't always think the way Mom's think, which is why we probably need both; but one thing you can be sure of: Good dad's keep coming up the hill, even when thet slide back, because the kids need food.                   [My note: Yes, Stephen, that is what GOOD Dads do. And you have the best!

Your dad called me from the hospital the night before and asked if I wanted anything from the store. I remember saying, "Oh, honey, the roads are terrible and it is snowing so hard. Just come home and we will get something tomorrow. We WERE running low on groceries and for the next three days we ate some wierd meals! I remember serving graham crackers with tuna salad on the side for one meal. It was the famine in the house that precipitated Dad's difficult trek to the end of the road and back. That road was so plugged with snow the plow could not do it. They came up the road with a bulldozer shortly after your Dad arrived with the provisions.]

Valerie: I never knew about the belated instant potatoes suggestion!

 I sort of think we did initially get the mail at the end of the road. Is that right, Mom?

Stephen: That's probably true. I think I kind of remember a mailbox down there for us when I was small. They wouldn't bring the school bus on our road to pick you up for kindergarten. You know the old saying, "Neither snow, nor sleet, nor rain (but possibly the Marshfield Flats Road)..."

[My Note: Instant potatoes would have been easier to haul up that hill. They probably never occurred to Dad because we didn't buy them. They were "yucky" in those days.

You are right about the mailbox. Dad usually picked it up on his way home from work. But on nice days we would make the one mile round trip to pick up the mail.]

ON OUR ROAD
Valerie:  I remember the biking--biking and biking. I remember the year that one of the ditches was filled with a whole clutch of thumbnail-sized frogs. I wonder what species they were. There were dozens, and I think we visited them every day.

Yes, I went to kindergarten in a taxi, and I loved my taxi driver [My note: Robert Ramsdell, a brother to Ivan.]. He felt like an uncle. And I remember the elderly lady that he sometimes took shopping [Thelma Hudson. She adored you. She went to the Machias Valley Church with us].
The very, very best thing about going to school in a taxi was the day that I was picked up late after school on the day the baby chicks were hatching. After crowding in with other kids to get just barely a peek at a little beak, I sat for some time alone and watched one little chick work its way around its circle. I did not see it come out, but I remember how delightful it was to get so close and see every move it made.

And I do remember thinking that was a dumb name for our road!

Stephen: I spent many summer afternoons under the Middle River Bridge. The water was cool, the trout were swimming, and the cars would go over the bridge, spilling dust and gravel down. It was scary to be under the bridge when a truck would go over it. It was never quite the same there after they pulled out the wooden bridge and replaced it with a giant galvanized culvert. You couldn't get from end to end anymore without getting wet. As for water, I'm pretty sure I've never had drinking water as good as what came out of our well at the old house. When we lived in Marshfield years later in our own house, we'd go over to Mom's and Dad's to fill our 5-gallon water jugs for our water cooler instead of buying the Poland Spring water that wasn't nearly as good.

Valerie: We did have the best water on the planet, I'm sure. It has spoiled me for life.

SPORTS: Participating and Spectating
Stephen: I played basketball in High School because it was our only sport. I was the starting center at 5'11" :) I wasn't that tall, but I could sure jump. But baseball was always the sport I loved. I just never got a chance to play an organized game. But the neighborhood kids would get together in the upper field, or in a cow pasture between our road and Route 192 and we'd play for hours. When I was quite young, Dad brought home a wiffle ball and a huge red bat, and the whole family played on the front lawn. Home plate was just in front of Valerie's apple tree. I remember dad tossing me the wiffle ball and I belted that thing all the way across the driveway deep into the bushes that once grew there and I remember my mother being amazed by that.

I think it was 1975 when I discovered baseball on the radio. In those days, Mom and Dad had a stereo downstairs in "the unit" that was a plywood entertainment system dad had built. It was stained "special walnut" which was this hideous dark stain that matched the fake wooden beams in the living room (incidentally, does anyone else remember hammering and beating on the finish boards that we later stained and placed between the beams along the wall?) But back to baseball.

When the Red Sox would go on a West Coast trip, the games wouldn't start until 10pm and I used to listen to the radio in my room. This was before the days of headphones. Eventually my parents caught me and took my radio away. So instead, after they'd go to bed, I'd sneak downstairs, carrying my pillow and I'd lay down on the living room floor with an afghan stolen from the couch. I'd lay on the pillow, and place my ear right up next to the stereo speaker that sat on the floor. This way I could listen to the Red Sox games and nobody else would hear it because I'd have it just barely loud enough to hear.

It wasn't long after that that we got our first videogame console, from Uncle Brian. It was called "pong." And a little later we got our first computer: a Texas Instruments Family Computer Model 99/4A. I could write programs in BASIC and save them to cassette tape. :) There was no IBM PC in those days.

VALERIE AND BOOKS - A NATURAL

Valerie: I remember that once a dust jacket on one of Mom's and Dad's big books had the tiniest tear, it seemed only right to remove it so the book could look perfect again. I was a bad child.

I remember that the "A" volume was the only good one in the whole Encyclopedia Americana. It held the anatomy insert, and we could turn those pages and build the human body as many times as we liked.

The first real book that I read by myself, the first book I ever checked out of the school library, was http://www.alibris.com/search/books/qwork/2910286/used/Hippo,%20Potta,%20and%20Muss.
Whenever the mother called her children, "Hippo, Potta, and Muss," every little hippopotamus came running.

And that day, my world was forever changed. I read the book again and again, in growing amazement, realizing that _in all the world there would never be an unconquerable word_, that it must be possible to read any word, of any length, just by dividing it into pieces and conquering them one at a time. By the end of the day, I couldn't wait to get back to the library and get another book.

I remember reading the Bible for the very first time. Okay, that was really confusing for two reasons. First, I didn't realize that what I had was a New Testament. Also, it was a four-column parallel version, and I had no idea of anything like that. So, not realizing that I was starting in Matthew chapter one, it seemed like I was reading the same thing, but not the same thing, over and over again. And mostly names I didn't know. And not only that, but I had always thought that the Bible started with "In the beginning..." and with the creation of the world--and where is that? Okay, even if it doesn't exactly _start_ with the Creation of the world, I really didn't think it started with Joseph and his brothers. Cain and Abel, at least? But here's Joseph--and no brothers! I AM SO CONFUSED!

This is the first longer story that I read myself and remember. It captured my imagination. I even remember dreaming about it after I read it. I read it in an anthology, probably http://www.valerieslivingbooks.info/children.htm

Poppy The Adventures of a Fairy

http://www.amazon.com/

Stephen: Awesome. What I remember was Dad reading classics to us. But he'd never, ever finish them. His ulterior motive, of course, was to pique our interest. We'd complain, but he wouldn't read anymore. And then we'd inevitably find the book, pick it up, and find out for ourselves what on earth was going to happen to Jim Hawkins.

  FAMILY DEVOTIONS

Dad at Monticello Hardware Apartment

Valerie:  I remember, "JesusintheboatJesusintheboat" from two little boys and "PhilippianjailerPhilippianjailer" from one little girl, over and over again, and always in the most earnest, pleading voices.

[My Note: Those were definitely the two favorite stories. And it was so cute the way everyone wanted to be first to say, "Peace Be Still" or "Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt be saved".  We loved having family devotions with you children.]

Valerie: Every once in awhile I still do a web search for--

"There's not a thing you can do,
The seed is already planted.
Just pray and watch it grow,
And don't take its care for granted anymore."

Still nada.  [My Note: I think the singer was called "Honeytree" ???]



My Last Visit To The House



[[My Note: Oh, my WORD ----- I am bawling my eyes out. This is all so SWEET. These comments are going to my blog. Your memories for your children are so much BETTER than what I have had to write... OH, how I love my "kids" and the people you are today!!

It was hard to let go, and I  still miss our Marshfield house. All that we experience here is temporary. But the memories still remain precious in our hearts. What a great journey this was into the past and a life I would not exchange. How I love this family!]

AND THE MEMORIES KEEP COMINGValerie:   I woke up remembering how perfectly delightful it was to watch perfectly round records come out of perfectly square sleeves. And what a lovely sound they made separating and then joining again.

I remember carefully looking back and forth from the record label to the sleeve each time, to remember which ones would go together again. And I remember that one day I separated too many, and I could not put them back correctly. And it was at that moment, and no earlier, that I realized that I had been a very bad girl.

I think it was all for the best that one day when we passed an old boundary and found a Frog Pond in the woods, teaming with life.

[My note: You mean then you could play with frogs that didn't have to be put back into sleeves?]

AND WHERE DO BABIES COME FROM?

Valerie:  I remember that one day Steve and I were talking about life, the universe, and everything else. I wasn't even in school yet, as I recall, and we decided to ask Mommy where babies came from.

She was at her sewing machine when we asked the question, and she immediately stopped everything to talk about the glory of God, the kindness of Jesus, and the wonder of a little baby. I remember her talking about love, and pleasure. I remember her getting a pen and a small piece of paper and resting it on her sewing machine, right by the needle, to draw diagrams.

I remember how amazing and wonderful it was to watch her thread that sewing machine, so many steps and then it always worked. And I remember how much fun it was to watch her fill a bobbin. (I remember, also, Heather and Kristen running to me in delight every time it was time to wind a bobbin, and walking away disappointed that--again--it was only one.)

[My note: And I remember the day that Bethany asked me something about reproduction and we had "the talk". She said, "Mommy, when do you tell children these things?" And I told her it was when children were big enough to ask the question. About then Jonathan came along and asked what we were talking about. Your sister told him to never mind. He wasn't big enough to ask the question! ]

Valerie: ‎Jonathan Buza and Wayne Buza, you finding an enormous rock on a back road reminds me.... I was in Menards the other day, and you can buy a plain, tan field stone, smaller than a 2-drawer filing cabinet for $79. Not only plastic, but hollow. Would you ever have imagined such a thing?

LEARNING RESPONSIBILITY AND GAINING INDEPENDENCE:

Jonathan:  I remember two trees that grew on the bank of Middle River. I'm not sure how old I was, but I was old enough that my dad sat me free . . . a bit. HE took me to Middle River and pointed out two trees growing on the bank. I could come and fish the brook by myself but I wasn't allowed to go past the two trees. That was fine. I fished A LOT between the bridge and those two trees. I knew about every spot to drop a hook in that stretch of river. I also remember the day when Shane Barker and I fished middle river very early in Apil not sure if it was the first or not, but I was probably twelve years old. I made the executive decision that since I wasn't a kid anymore that the trees that had been pointed out when I was a child didn't apply to a young man such as myself. Shane and I followed middle river past where smelt brook flowed into it. It was the furthest I ever went on Middle River ever. I remember dad saying after I returned who knows how many hours later, "You weren't supposed to go past the two trees". I don't remember my response but I remember after that I could range as far as I liked.

ACCIDENTS DO HAPPEN AND THEY ARE NOT FUN

Valerie: I got a job at the hospital, working as a unit secretary when I was sixteen. I was at work one night, down the hall from the emergency room, when I heard a child screaming in terror and... pain--and I knew instantly that it was my brother, Jonathan Buza. I asked permission to leave my station and walk down to the emergency room, and my co-workers assured me that it couldn't really be my brother.

I said, "No. It's him. I know his voice." So, I was permitted to go and see, and that's when I learned about the log splitter accident.
[My Note: Poor Jonathan! He screamed until the doctor told him that he had not lost his finger and that it was going to alright. He endured all the sutures and everything else with a very brave heart and in silence after that.]

Valerie:  I remember a glass window laying in the grass. I was two, and I knew that glass could break, but I wondered if that window could possibly support my weight. I decided to test it very gingerly and slowly, and I sat on the window.  Relieved and very satisfied with the results of my experiment, I sat on the window for a minute or two before I put down my hands to push myself up, and put my left hand through the window. I still have the scar from my first experiment in weight distribution.

[My Comment: You were very little when that happened. Dad grabbed you, brought you to me, and I used a towel to hold pressure on it as we went to the hospital. You were so brave -- the doctor asked you how you were able to be SO brave. And you told the doctor that JESUS helped you. The doctor was speechless.]

AND THE FUN GOES ON!

Valerie: I remember the old boat. We had a fantastic sand pile, and I remember the day when the sand was brought, or delivered. It seems to me that Dad needed the sand for some purpose and that there was extra for us. I remember building and rebuilding a million roads for the Tonka trucks.

I have several times encouraged Erik and David to share their "boy toys" with Rebekah, telling them how much I loved playing trucks with my brothers and how disappointed I would have felt if I had not been included.

[My NOTE: You probably all remember how reluctant you were to coming into the house. Your best hours were spent in the fresh air exploring and pretending. What sorrowful cries and tears from my little ones whenever they had to leave Wonderland and come inside for the night!]

IT WAS NOT ALL PLAY AND NO WORK:

 

Valerie:  I remember that we weren't overly supervised, and most of the time I think that is best for children. We were allowed to spend so much of our lives reading, and exploring the riches of creation and history.

But we also worked together. I remember that when I was little and had to clean my room, I had no idea where to start, but I remember most projects as joyful occasions--digging something, building something, moving something, making something happen.

And I remember that many busy project days ended with some sort of treat. A cold drink. or a run to the ice cream stand.

Valerie: I remember the enormous blueberry fields, stretching as far as the eye could see. I remember raking for $6-7 a bushel, but not fondly.

And I remember picking them by hand with my family, filling buckets for freezing and baking, and that very fondly.

http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xRfKvE8XQUg/SMV0-Lu1xUI/AAAAAAAAI1s/gU8we5rbS3o/s400/blueberry+fields++(2)

‎1.bp.blogspot.com

[My Note: You are right, Valerie. There were endless family projects. Those were good for so many reasons -- a family is a team! They learn a good work ethic. They learn that things don't happen by magic. And we got things done with each one contributing a bit -- and it really DID help to get things done more quickly.]

THEY BUILT A BRIDGE ACROSS OUR LITTLE BROOK

Your Dad:  Why is everyone blubbering. Not ME! (Much)  Steve, do you remember when we put the bridge on over the brook and how we could not get that piece of granite moved. How it was so big and heavy? What 5 or 6 feet long and probably 8 to 10 inches thick and a foot or more wide? We wanted it to be on the far bank for a support for that end of the bridge. How would we ever get it moved into place? Do you remember how THAT happened? As I remember it someone named Jonathan found a way to move it. Remember that Stephen, Kevin?

Jonathan: I think we found that piece of granite on a back road in Whitneyville didn't we? There's not much to tell it was just the proper application of brute force and ignorance haha.

Stephen:  There's dad, he's bigger than me. There's me, I'm bigger than Jonathan. We're debating how we're going to get this 500 pound chunk of granite lying along the stream so it can become a support for the new cedar footbridge. While we're tal...king about pulling it with the tractor or using prybars, my younger brother (who was always very strong for his size), bent down, picked it up and put it in place, leaving us speechless. Brute force and ignorance :)

[My note: Jonathan loved the outdoors always and he was as tan as tan could be all through the warm months. I recall how he used his beautiful, olive skin as an excuse to avoid washing behind his ears and on his neck. I also recall showing him the evidence on a soapy cloth and with a mirror that tan necks still need to be washed, and no -- his tan was not on the facecloth. Hahaha -- oh, little boys are something else, aren't they?]

Wayne Buza And you, Stephen and I and Kevin are standing there mouths agape thinking. "I don't believe what I just saw." 

Stephen Buza Yes, that's exactly what i was thinking.

Jonathan Buza With you all rooting me on how could I not lift it? Am I dreaming or did that piece of granite come from a dirt road in Whitneyville? 

[My note: I don't remember if the granite slab came from a dirt road in Whitneyville. But I do remember it being atop the rock wall in our basement. Did Dad put it there or was it already there?]

IT IS "TAX SEASON" FOR THE CPA IN OUR FAMILY BUT. . .

Kevin:  Ah, wow. I really don't have time to read this (although I did). What memories you guys have. I wish my ability to recall events of those years was as good. I have often thought that my seizures (which are far in the past now!) was the caus...e of my poor memory. I certainly don't remember being 18 months old!

I remember hammering away at that ceiling trim, and how fun it was. I remember distincly picking blueberries, blackberries and raspberries both across the road and across the stream. It was so sad the last time I was across the stream and saw that our own special little (and it was little) blueberry field was all but gone.

I remember what fun it was to go under the Middle River bridge. After the bridge was removed and replaced, you *could* get through there without getting wet at certain times of year (when the water was low enough), by walking on the nuts holding the culvert together. Usually, though, I'd slip and get wet, but it didn't stop me from trying!

I remember the old house and recall being scolded about going inside, but do not remember ever being in there.

I don't think I will ever forget "The Hulk" picking up that giant stone and putting it right where it needed to be. How's the back these days??

I remember clearly riding in the taxi to school.

Do you guys remember the GIANT snow banks along the road and digging tunnels through the snowbank? Remember playing hockey on the frozen spring above the driveway? One of my absolute favorite things to do in winter was to go outside when the snow was all crusty, get down on my belly and crawl across the snow like a solider and try to not break through the crust.

Choke cherry tree by the barn ... fun for climbing and a food source too. Banana popsicles are inextricably linked in my mind to putting the roof on the barn (after dark, I think).

Remember climbing up the brich trees across the road from the house just far enough so that they would bend back down to the ground with our weight and then letting them go whoosh! back into place?

I do not recall ever being bothered by much, etc. in those old cars. Playing in, on and around them? All the time, as much as we could. I recall finding some red paint in the barn and painting one of those cars (I think we just poured the paint onto the car). I was sad, but understanding, when the cars went away. What fun they were. I remember playing cops & robbers, and "Turbo" mode.

I remember Dad starting to read Quo Vadis to us. I do not remember him reading Treasure Island, but I remember reading it myself.

Oh, our water... I did the same thing, Steve. After I moved out, I bought a 5 gallon water jug and filled it at home. I did this during all of my renting in town and after I bought my house. It was many months after I bought that house on Old County Road (still have a hard time with "Scott's Hill Road") before I ever tried the water (and was surprised to find that it was actually pretty good).

Our road's name always made sense to me... wasn't it the Marshfield-Whitneyville Flats Road? ...Anyway, the way I saw it, there was one huge hill (up & back down), but were three flat areas .. three Flats.

I will never forget seeing my brother reaching for a log that was falling off of the splitter while I was operating it. Thank God that my reaction time was quick enough that he didn't lose that finger (or worse). Cardinal rule of log splitters for any readers: let the log fall, then pick it up.

I remember getting run over by a bicycle and my eye being so puffed up I could hardly see.

THE DINNER BELL -- A GIFT FROM EMERSON & IRENE MACLAUGHLAN:

Stephen:  ‎"Da-ding-ding-ding-ding-ding." You could hear it for a half mile at least. It was the dinner bell. No matter where you were or what you were doing, it was time to head home. I might be fishing, or at a frog pond, or setting a new "stick man" on second base from my recent double, I was off at a trot. For whatever there was that I had stuffed my face with from God's bounty through the day, the bell meant pot roast, baby potatoes, and fresh peas. I'd be on a run and I'd see siblings pouring out of the woods, from across the street, biking up the hill with all they could muster. You might be a hundred yards from the house, or a half mile, but somehow, we'd always land on the front steps just about the same moment, fighting to be the first one through the door.

[My note: And it has given me horrors ever since I heard many years after the fact that our children were playing on those huge mounds of rotting sawdust at the abandoned mill. By God's grace, none of you were swallowed into it!]

Kevin Buza Yep... we feasted throughout the day (summer time anyway) ... sometimes our feast involved green apples and "green apple face", but we feasted anyway. Only to run home for a hot meal at the bell.

Here is my message to all my nieces and nephews... either be the man in this song or look for a man like this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZeuNxMY_5Uo

The Proclaimers - (I'm gonna be) 500 miles! Live Acoustic

http://www.youtube.com/

The End (for now)